All Part of the Plan
by Pmrising
Summary: A prank gone horrible wrong. Or maybe, horribly right? One-shot.


Faberry Week.  
Snowed-In One Shot

Yes this is happening. I_ really_ hope you enjoy.

* * *

**All Part of the Plan**

* * *

"This wasn't part of the plan."

Santana knew, or at least thought she knew, for a fact that it was not going to snow today. But it did. I _really_ did. It came pouring down so fast, so quickly, no one really could have ever saw this coming. But it did. It was coming down hard, she could barely see past two feet in front of her. And if she wasn't wearing a hat or coat, Santana would have soon ended up on someone's yard with a carrot as a nose.

"You were supposed to check the weather!"

"I did but-" She cursed, low, hissing, "It's the news' fault okay?"

Puck didn't say much else, he just glared at her, arms crossed. Pushing his knit cap up his head a bit in case it would obscure his vision, he hastily grumbled, blowing out a trail of smoke from his lips.

"Don't worry San we'll figure this out," Brittney chirped, hopping from one little boot print to the other, trailing behind Santana gracefully. She looked like a bunny really, all white, covered in specks of snow.

Santana turned once two hands braced her shoulders and she smiled shyly, "I'm not worried Britts."

Puck then huffed, pulling the cap off to scratch at the top of his Mohawk. It was moments like these that he dreaded: When something didn't go according to pla, when he had to fix a problem. Usually just backing out of situations was so much easier, but this was important, almost a life or death sort of condition. There would be no running away from this little fault.

"It just keeps piling up," Puck groaned hastily, eyeing the snow covered shack from afar, "We just left for a few minutes- I mean-"

"Can you relax?"

He shifted a glare at Santana, currently hugging Brittney for warmth. They were huddled close, and he couldn't continue to stay mad at the little scene before him because- well- it was incredibly endearing. Even if Santana was being a huge-

"Where are you going?" Brittney screamed.

"We'll need some shovels!" He shouted behind him, marching through the football field, the snow was up to his knees now. His legs were already numb, probably red, soaked.

He couldn't hear the ruffling of snow behind him. And then suddenly Santana grabbed his arm while pulling him close, so close their eyelashes were inches away from touching, "Your actually thinking about _saving _them?"

He was taken back from the accusation, wasn't the answer obvious? "Of course! We can't leave them in there!" He pointed to the shed, the door practically covered with snow. The windows tinted with white. From where they were currently standing it looked like a steep hill just covered in snow and ice. Like a little mound peeking from the ground, it was terrifying to imagine someone in there. "They could freeze to death!"

Before Santana could fire anything back Brittney sing-songed, "I don't think Quinn would like that." She popped up from behind Santana once again with a huge grin. Puck stared at her for a moment, accessing her words, he redirected his gaze to Santana.

"What? Why?"

Santana blew into her hands, covered in mittens, "Let's just say that Q _never _backs down from a prank."

"Even if it's pretty much a complete fail?"

"Especially."

They both stiffened, staring at each other with equal looks of exhaustion. This was just ridiculous really. Of course the prank they were planning for two months goes horribly wrong. _Of course._

He rubs his face with a bothersome groan, "So- So we're just gonna leave her in there?"

Santana shrugged, "It's not like she's all alone."

"Yeah!" Brittney smiled, "She has Rachel."

* * *

"This was_ not_ part of the plan." Quinn huffed, stomping on the ground. She heavily kicked at the door, sending a jolt of pain towards the heel of her foot. She groaned in anger, collapsing onto the floor so she could rub her swollen skin.

"No matter how many times you kick the door it's not going to budge, I hope you know that," Rachel digressed, wrapping two arms around her knees, pulling them to her chest and resting a chin on the soft fabric of her sweater. She watched with this sort of dull expression, almost mocking Quinn's extreme little outburst not 2 hours ago.

"I told you_ not_ to talk."

"Well we might be stuck in here for a while-"

"Shut it."

And she did. She closed her mouth, shrugged and watched as Quinn kicked the door once more, this time with full force and a high-pitched grunt. She even stepped back a bit this time, accessing the angle directory and then practically catapulting herself towards the metal door, her foot slammed into the center. She groaned in pain once again, landing on her butt. It was incredibly sloppy, really. Rachel had never seen Quinn so primal, like a caged animal. It was almost surreal.

"You try," Quinn said tiredly, her voice a bit hushed due to her little pants of pain, "I've tried like 18 times. Now you go."

"Quinn the door isn't going to budge. Give up."

"Do it."

So she did. Rachel rolled her eyes, stood up and patted down her skirt. It was cold, freezing really. She couldn't understand how Quinn wasn't a block of ice. She didn't do anything to warm herself up yet. Just sort of rampaged around the room, screaming, then came the door hitting-

Rachel yelped a bit, not from pain, but from the sheer hardness of the door. It didn't even shift. Not a little budge.

"Use your heel when you kick."

"Are you just going to sit there and watch me?"

Quinn looked at Rachel, raising that pesky eyebrow up before standing and taking her place next to the girl. "Let's try pushing it, with our hands."

Rachel nodded, rubbing her arms as she did so.

"The faster we get this done the faster we can warm up," Quinn breathed out. Her voice, during this whole 2 hours, didn't sound angry or drained for once. Maybe a bit hopeful. Maybe a bit desperate.

"Well exercise is a good way to warm up," Rachel complied with a small smile, "So it's like hitting two birds with one stone."

"Whatever."

They both sized up the door, slapping their hands, dangerously close together, on the freezing metal. While Quinn gripped her hands in the center Rachel just stood on her toes and reached high.

"If you push from that angle this will never work," Quinn urged, grabbing the girl's ice-cold hand and pushing it towards the center of the door.

Then swiftly, without a second glance or word, she put her hand over Rachel's, leaned back, readying to give a push, and then, "Go!"

Rachel a bit surprised by the warmth of the cheerleader's hands started a bit late at the pushing. But they finally ended up putting all their weight towards the door together. Quinn let out a choked grunt, pushing with her back heel, eyes squinted tightly. Rachel sort of squealed from the door's chill, her whole body practically on top of the door. Her shoulders were touching the cold metal, while Quinn's sort of hunched over her drooping head.

Then Quinn's heel slipped and she fell on her knees and hit her head on the door. And Rachel swore she couldn't stop laughing.

When Quinn huffed, and picked her head up, blond locks spilling around her face, Rachel was on the floor, rolling around. She felt instantly warmer, but Quinn swore her heart was just as cold as the snow covering the shed. "Shut up," she spat.

Rachel closed her mouth instantly, but turned her head to the side to hide any spare giggles.

Quinn pushed her hair back, and on her forehead-

"Oh my gosh it's red," Rachel cooed, chuckling into her freezing hands. "Your forehead."

"Shut up Manhands!" Quinn growled, "I'm shocked your hands are still cold from all that _meat_ around them."

And that did the job. Rachel looked at her fingers, grumbled something under her breath and went back to her little corner.

Quinn just huffed, didn't even watch the girl leave. She was sort of staring at the ground, her hands on the cold cement, her forehead aching, hair disheveled. It wasn't Quinn Fabray at all, maybe a different Quinn, a more desperate and sloppy Quinn. The kind of Quinn who slips on invisible ice and bangs their head on metal doors. She blew out some more air, braced the door again, and pushed.

Rachel continued to watch, nestled back into her old position. Eyes squinty and lazy. She felt so damn tired. They had been in here for hours now. Stuck in the football teams shed. The entire area was filled with mats and footballs, it didn't help make the situation less eerie.

"Do you think anyone will come?" Rachel never heard herself sound so shrill, so weak. It was horrible.

Quinn didn't turn around, she still pushed against the door, shoulders hunched and heels sliding and replacing one another, trying desperately to move or at least budge the snow.

"What if we die in here?"

She continued to ignore.

"Quinn? Quinn, no one even knows we're here."

She grunted a bit, still pushing, it was getting to her now. The cold. The snow. The door. Her forehead. She couldn't breath. She was just so fucking cold.

"Quinn-"

"Rachel!" She hollered angrily, still struggling to push, "If you don't want to help, then stay put and don't make any noise!"

"The door isn't going to move Quinn!" Rachel growled, "The windows aren't even-"

"I just need to push harder!" She yelled. And then her arms gave out, tired of pushing. Aching. She leaned into the door, the cold felt good against her forehead. And so, after being dejected, she gave up. Sliding onto her knees and burying her head into her cold hands Quinn let out a choked sob.

"Quinn-"

"Are you sure you don't have your cell with you?" She hushed against her freezing fingers. Her voice sounded wet. Like she was underwater.

"Do you?"

They both shared exasperated looks, and while Quinn just nestled into her hands further, Rachel sort of buried deeper into her sweater.

Both girls stayed like that for what felt like hours. It could have been hours. It could have been minutes. The chill was getting to them though, even with the sweaters and the jackets and the stockings, the snow covering shack created this sort of freezer effect. Rachel got the faint wonderment that they were like sodas in a refrigerator. Someone would open the roof, dip their hands into the cold and grab a refreshing drink. She really hoped the hand would drink Quinn first, she wasn't ready to-

"What did you mean part of the plan?" Rachel questioned aloud, she poked her head up from her sleeves, teeth shattering. Bones numb.

"What?" Quinn husked out, peeking past her hands, still wrapped loosely around that tear stricken face.

"You kept saying this wasn't part of the plan," Rachel shifted in her spot, trying to get her legs to wake up, "As if you planned this-"

"Oh."

Rachel watched this sort of shy look creep on Quinn's face, as she fully pulled up from her hands.

"I was going to play a prank on you."

Rachel made a face, "_This_ is the prank?"

"Obviously not."

They stayed still, stiff.

"So this is all your fault," Rachel whispered. She stared at the ground, eyes lidded and heavy. "I'm going to die because of you."

"My fault?" Quinn raised her voice a bit, glaring at the brunette huddled in her corner. She looked like a bum. Like a homeless person. It suited her. "How was I supposed to know we'd get snowed in?"

"It doesn't matter what you know or what you don't know!" Rachel hollered back, "This wouldn't have happened, if you would just stop picking on me!"

"You should be counting your lucky stars that your going to die rather than get pranked by me." Quinn hissed, spreading her knees out and leaning forward, "Death would be a much sweeter fate!"

"Well If that's the case I'd rather die with someone other than you!"

Quinn's jaw went slack, her eyes wide, teeth grinding, chest heaving, "Who would you rather die with Manhands? Finn? _Mr. Shou_?"

"I'd die with Santana if it didn't mean I'd have to freeze to death with you!" Rachel hollered, slamming her head into her arms and heaving a huge sigh. An exhausted sigh, "I'm so mad at you right now."

"You'll get over it," Quinn hushed, folding into herself neatly and rubbing her forehead with cold hands. They were so cold they hurt, her fingertips looked ashy, covered in white. Almost as if they would fall off soon, or like the blood had froze over. Cracked. Her fingers were cracked ice.

"The roof is going to collapse on us," Rachel cried out into her muffled arms, "I'm going to be crushed to death and I'm not even famous yet."

And then Quinn, growled. Actually growled. "Like you'd ever get famous at all."

It was a low blow. She knew that. It was cruel to make fun of someone's dreams. Its one thing if your giving them a slushy facial, it's another if your making them question their future. A future far away from high school. Quinn didn't hold her breath when she said it though, honestly it came out of chattering teeth that could barely form a sentence. She wasn't even looking at Rachel when she said it, it was sort of just an auto insult. Maybe trying to convince herself that it wasn't too mean, while rubbing her hands furiously, was proving successful. But then she looked at Rachel.

Crying.

She then held her breath in, she could hardly believe it. She finally made Rachel cry. It finally happened. And it didn't take a slushy or a tacky brilliant nickname, just a simple honest threat.

It was selfish. Incredibly selfish. There were lines of bulling that Quinn just never crossed. She didn't hit. She didn't spit. She certainly didn't make people feel as if they should question their own worth which would lead to a suicide. It was sort of lax threats that spewed from her lips at a fiery rate, little nicknames to make people see her own self-confidence. Humiliation.

But never before had Quinn ever used such a horrible burn. It wasn't even a burn. It was just plain bitchy. Just plain…_nasty._

"I'm sorry," like the tips of her fingers, her voice cracked

Rachel continued to cry, these little weak bursts of whimpers, her chest bobbed once or twice, but Quinn couldn't even see her face due to it being sucked into her knees and arms, pulled close to her chest.

"I didn't mean it." She said again. She sounded so weak. So frail. "I really didn't mean it."

She was inching over now, teeth chattering. Actually moving was the worst. At least when your sitting the cold feels as if it's all around you, on your skin, maybe a layer or two into your flesh. But sometimes you'd get that little burst of warmth, sky rocketing into your belly. But walking was horrible. Her legs shook, and it felt as if she just fell face first into a foot of snow.

"I didn't know what I was saying," She muttered, not really knowing why she was on two legs. Her arms wrapped around themselves, and she listened to Rachel whimper with such a timid little cry. "I'm just so cold." As if that explained everything. It certainly explained her now, probably, swollen heel. And the fact that she couldn't look Rachel in the eye this entire time.

"Well-," Rachel sniffed, eyes red and wet, "Now your body temperature matches the temperature of your heart perfectly."

Quinn felt embarrassed. Humiliated. She was standing there, freezing, tired, afraid, scared, alone, being judged by Rachel Berry. And she just took it. She stood there, curled around herself, knees bucking into each other, and took it.

She dipped her head at her feet, blond locks slipping off her shoulder and falling loosely towards her chest. The cold was really getting to her now. She just wanted to be warm. Nothing even mattered, "Christ," she hushed, for the first time she saw puffs of white echo from her voice, inside of a building. It was a bit astonishing. The weather outside must match the weather inside of the shack now. Which was a bit terrifying.

"Hold my hand," Quinn said smoothly, pulling her hair behind one ear. Trying to play it off cool. Clam. Relaxed. In control, completely.

"No."

"Rachel. Hold my hand," She gritted out, stepping closer, fists clenched and shoulders hunched. "I'm cold."

"I am too. But I want nothing to do with you."

"Come-" And then she was hovering over the shaky breathed girl, who looked less like a bum and more like a crying teenage girl now. She sat stiffly beside Rachel, close enough so they weren't touching. "Please." She breathed evenly, trying to find Rachel's hand buried into that horrible sweater.

"Quinn-"

"Just-"

"I don't-

"Rachel-

"No-

Then the shuffling of dry cold fingers, slapping and grabbing practically echoed the room. It was like listening to two drywalls scrape against each other.

"See?" Quinn sucked out, "Better."

Rachel looked at their joined hands. Fingers wrapped mercilessly around the other. Palms smoothed and touching. They were cold. Quinn's fingertips were cold, but it only made her hands look more beautiful, as if covered in snow. Then almost astonishingly, the warmth began, somehow. It was faint, but it was certainly there, only growing in between their joined palms.

"It does feel better." Rachel said softly, still staring at their hands, joined, lying limply beside one another.

Quinn drew her knees up, and with her free hand tucked into her lap she bowed her head, "Your hands aren't man-ish at all."

Rachel choked a little laugh.

"I'm sorry about what I said," Quinn muttered, "That was…" She reared off of the subject, feeling the warmth of Rachel's hand connect to her bone chilling fingers. She smiled for a brief second, squeezing tighter, eyes shifting a brave glance towards Rachel's way, only to catch brown eyes staring right back.

"Y'know-," Rachel muttered, wiping her now dry, frozen, eyelashes with the edge of her free hand, "You can move closer. I don't bite."

And so Quinn moved an inch closer, so close that their hands were squished between their bodies, but they're thighs touched…beautifully. The warmth emanating off of Rachel's waist was heavenly, and Quinn felt herself sinking deeper and deeper into the heat. She was suddenly resting on Rachel's shoulder, taking in the faint waft of shampoo and conditioner. Eyes closed delightfully, a smile piercing her lips. She felt as if she was on a cloud, a big warm soft cloud, drifting into a smoldering fire before-

"Quinn wake up!"

The girl snapped to, eyes squinty, mouth dry. She turned to face Rachel, who was still holding her hand, who was still deliciously close. Still Rachel. It was a bit pleasing to know that she was still safe. If not a little scared from her insults before.

"I fell asleep?"

"For a few seconds there."

Quinn grumbled, "Why would you wake me?"

"I once heard that people who die from being frozen usually die falling asleep." Rachel didn't look at the girl beside her when she spoke, her eyes fixed on some footballs lying in the corner, "I didn't want you to die."

Quinn continued to watch the girl nervously bit her lip and duck her gaze. Very solemnly, smoothly, she asked, "Are we going to die here?"

"Probably not. It's not t_oo_ cold now." Rachel whispered, "If we stay connected we'll survive."

"I'm still cold."

Rachel gave her a long stare, "Maybe we should hug."

"Maybe."

They didn't move too quickly, they sort of tested the waters first. Faces twisted and reading one another, almost skillfully, examining emotions with just facial expressions.

Rachel made the first move, disconnecting her hand, hissing at the lost of contact. She very stiffly, carefully, shifted on her knees before Quinn, hands placed on either side of her thighs, tongue bouncing off her bottom lip. "Come here."

Quinn then stared at the girl, "We're hugging on our knees?"

"Oh," she ducked at the floor, bit her lip a few times, "You can sit in my lap." She requested with a bit of some fear, Rachel folded her legs, skirt sliding a bit high. Quinn didn't mind it though, she felt a bit bad because of the chill and all. Nevertheless she relentlessly climbed onto the girl, knees struck Rachel's ribs, arms around the girl's tiny waist, that was still incredibly warm, and head tilted right on the shoulder. Her ass delicately resting in Rachel's lap. And Quinn was positive nothing ever felt so warm and safe in her life.

"Is my hair in your mouth?" Quinn questioned softly, realizing she was actually pretty tall compared to Rachel. "Maybe we should switch-"

And then she could feel a little nose bump against her chest, nestling in. The warmth was incredibly addicting. It felt incredible to finally have some feeling back into their bodies. So both girls, very shyly and timidly, would shift and move, squeeze closer, hold better, sigh a bit softer.

It was perfect.

"Are your legs cold?" Rachel questioned after a few minutes of silence. A few seconds of shifting.

"No."

"Is anything else cold?" Rachel asked pleasantly.

"My lips," Quinn said unintentionally. Once the words split from said cold lips she snapped her mouth shut and squeezed her eyes, "But It's not like you can do anything about that anyway."

Rachel didn't say much after that. It didn't even sound, or feel, like she was breathing. She squeezed Quinn a bit tighter, feeling thighs shift underneath her, Quinn tried to maybe ease the tension she had on Rachel's legs.

"I think I could help you." Rachel said suddenly.

Quinn, for the first time since they hugged, pulled back. And then she realized how close they were. How almost inseparable their positioned seemed. "What problem," she bit back, a bit blown away by how golden Rachel's skin suddenly looked.

"Your lip problem."

"Oh."

They both knew what she was referring too. Even before the kiss.

They were mere inches away, noses barely brushing each other. Eyes scanned eyes, and lips were just inches away, the first little peck was soft. Barely there even. More like they blew air on each other.

Then another kiss.

But oh was it incredibly warming. No, nothing like warmth, it was scorching, it was steaming and bubbling and burning and just- Rachel was sure she was covered in lava for a second, her whole body warmed up immediately.

Lips slid perfectly against one another. Tongues delved out and licked lips inches away before colliding again. The heat was just too addicting to let go, it was just too wanted, too_ needed_, by both girls. They didn't know where to start or where to even end. Was there more warmth anywhere else? Could they reach it? Could they harvest it? Quinn pulled back, taking deep breaths of air, before nipping Rachel's neck.

"Your…" Kiss. Kiss. "Neck-"

Rachel lifted her head back, she hummed.

"Your neck is…" Kiss. Nip. Suck. "So." Bite. Suck. Lick. "_Warm."_

Hands flew to Quinn's back, pushing her in deeper, grabbing her head and plunging for more hickeys more heat, more fire, more smoldering, more, more, more.

"Kiss me."

Lips smacked furiously, teeth clacked and lips were bitten. Anything for that volcanic eruption to just take over. Then, two hands, under the shirt, under the bra-

Quinn hissed, pulling back, Rachel's hands were _freezing_. Like ice on her breasts. Looking at the arms currently underneath her crimpled top, "Are they warm?" Quinn questioned.

Rachel bit back a moan, "Very." She hushed.

And then nipples were squeezed and prodded and pulled and Quinn was sure this was what the heat in hell felt like. Hell felt like getting your boobs mounted and fondled by a girl named Rachel Berry. The fire was incredible, insatiable.

"I want-" Rachel was kissed again, she pulled back, eyes squeezed shut, "I want more. I'm still cold."

Quinn pushed the girl back, she didn't even care if the floor was freezing, it would be hot soon anyway. Hot and burning, rippling with fire. It would devour her, she just knew it. With Rachel lying back, hands stretching over Quinn's light abs, the girl removed her shirt immediately, almost as if it had bugs all over it, or if it was literally on fire, just like her skin.

"I watched this documentary once where body heat is essential to get through a snowstorm."

"What if it's just some light snowfall?" Rachel rasped out, eyes curving every inch and mile of Quinn's beautiful body.

The girl pushed close, ripping off that ridiculous sweater and then- ah. Skin against skin. It was almost too amazing, too perfect even. "Same thing," Quinn husked softly, rubbing hands over Rachel's cute little stomach, it was all so warm. It was like a blanket. A blanket in a blizzard.

"Touch me."

She planned to, she really did. This was part of the plan. This _was_ the plan. Nothing else mattered now. The plan was to be set on fire, to be burnt to ash, dust in the damn wind. Quinn bent down and kissed Rachel's cheek and then her chest and then her stomach and then-

Rachel looked down at Quinn, currently stopping short just above the girl's skirt, eyes snaking over the flesh.

"What are we doing?"

"I don't know," Rachel hushed out, head against the floor, "All I know is that the floor should be colder than this, but its not."

Quinn just watched Rachel's chest heave, she watched the girl splayed out before her, gulp down some air, swallow a few times, eyes scanning the ceiling vigorously.

"I want to be even hotter." Was all that Quinn said.

"Burn me."

Her hand peeled the skirt off, then the socks and then the shoes just fell off on their own and now she was dead center with the little darkened patch in Rachel's underwear. She didn't even know what she was doing, but it was excruciatingly hot down there, the heat emanating from Rachel was extraordinary. Quinn found it. She found the fucking volcano.

Tugging the underwear up both legs, letting it settle on Rachel's calf Quinn didn't even take the time to look, she just dragged one long lick, scaling the desirable wetness with her tongue.

"Hot!" Rachel gasped, hips bucking wildly, once. Then they settled, back into the warm concrete. "Again," she murmured.

So Quinn did it again, and again. She sucked and licked, nipped and even twirled that little bundle of joy around in her mouth.

Rachel was gasping, reaching for Quinn's head, Quinn's shoulders, Quinn's anything really. Then the blond hit the perfect spot, and she remained there, head bobbing, eyes glancing up and down every so often. They never made eye contact, either Rachel's eyes were closed half the time or just painfully wide open. Her mouth parted, and the sighs and whispers grew a little louder. The holding of beautiful blond locks became patting of beautiful blond locks, petting, soothing little fold overs. Rachel's hand roughed up Quinn's hair, they untangled the locks and suddenly her hips were gyrating at an uncomfortable speed, toes grinding into the concrete, she was falling backwards. Careening into magma, lava, hot fiery, beautiful, comforting goodness.

Was it even snowing anymore?

And then a short cry, broken halfway, thrown out into the air. A low little huff, hands reaching for anything to grip tightly. Rachel's hips were still thrusting a bit, even after Quinn finished her excessive lapping.

Then silence.

"I messed up...your hair. I'm sorry." Rachel panted. Chest heaving. She was lifeless, limp.

Quinn sat back on her knees, hands reach up to the hair she starts to fix. Carefully, skillfully. She never looks Rachel in the eye, just sort of stares off into space, away from the spread legs in front of her.

"Its fine," she murmured, looking around for her bra, "Still cold?"

"No." Rachel eyed the girl as she propped herself on two elbows, chest heaving softly, "How about you?"

Quinn looked up from her search, she had a faint blush on her cheeks, but she hid it with this almost forced dull expression, "When I was um- I think I also-" she shifted in her spot, searching again, "I'm fine."

"Oh."

"Can you get my bra for me?"

"Sure."

She clipped it on the front, adjusted it comfortably, and then, Rachel spoke, "My skirt?"

She handed it over promptly. They didn't watch each other dress, even though they watched each other _undress_ only moments ago. It didn't feel right, suddenly, to gawk and watch each other. But it wasn't completely awkward. They were warm now, which was the goal. The plan.

More silence, as both girls were fully dressed for their arrangement. They never locked eyes, not even glancing towards each other's direction. They were warm, happily, comfortably warm.

"Hey Quinn."

A sharp, "What?"

Rachel played with her fingers, which had their color back, red tinted the tips, "I-"

Without warning the metal shed door burst open, silhouetted people stood at the open doorway, all carrying shovels and annoyed expressions. The wind was the first to catch Quinn's attention, practically knocked her off of her feet, little sprinkles of snow flew into her eyes and hair. She was seeing stars.

"Hey," Santana barked out, dropping the shovel onto the ground, little bursts of snow raked the floor. But the girls didn't even care about the open chill. They were saved.

"Hey," Quinn replied hastily, standing on both legs and sparing Rachel a quick glance, "Took you guys long enough."

Santana rolled her eyes and scoffed, jamming her hands in her coat pockets. She eyed both girls carefully, while Rachel lay on the floor, hair a mess and lips glistening, Quinn just seemed as stiff and sore as ever, maybe a bit high strung even.

"Let's go." Puck muttered into the silence, "It's Christmas Eve, I want to go home."

"Thanks for saving us." Rachel replied softly as she stood, fixing her hair gingerly. Everyone gave her a soft glance, a few nods, and then Brittney bounced in, hugging Quinn excitingly.

"Come on Quinn Santa is coming tomorrow!"

Right. It was Christmas Eve. Right. They were stuck in a shack for 3 hours. Right. Quinn just gave Rachel an extraordinary orgasm in order to survive a snow in.

It all sort of sunk in then, with Brittney dangling on Quinn's shoulders and Rachel eyeing the ground as she patted her skirt, relieving it of wrinkles. They just had sex. And the way both girls eyed each other, for the first time since they were both naked, it all just flew into the air. The whole arrangement of survival was the only reasonable excuse for what had just happened. They were cold and sex was the only reasonable way to retain heat. They could have just laid on each other naked, but why did Quinn feel as if the same thing would have happened anyway? Their small history made sense, didn't it?

"Bye Manhands," Quinn said softly, carefully. Then she was pushed out of the door, not even hearing Rachel's shy goodbye.

Walking along the crumbled football field glazed with snow and few of her friend's footprints, Quinn hummed softly to herself. Not entirely comfortable with how her old plan went, but incredibly pleased with how the _new_ plan arose to the occasion, she swiftly shuffled in front of everyone, leading the group to their neighborhoods.

"How did you even survive with that midget?" Santana said loudly, curiously.

"Yeah how did you not freeze to death?" Puck managed to say between Brittney's excited laughter.

Quinn didn't give them much of an answer; instead she turned very casually, to meet her audience. Locking eyes with Rachel from afar, it felt like the right thing to do. Or maybe say.

She cried out a Merry Christmas to Rachel, who floundered instantly, alone on the snow. She looked precious even, delighted. Fixing her hair softly and glancing back up from her footprints, Rachel graced Quinn with a Merry Christmas holler as well.

Even if she did only celebrate Hanukah.


End file.
